


hold my hand and give me something to smile about

by insectoid_demigoddess



Series: godworship [4]
Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Humor, M/M, W is here in fully weird capacity and they're beautiful for it, a Date Fic, accidentally laid base for plot, kouta flirts nonstop because He Can, no beta we die like god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insectoid_demigoddess/pseuds/insectoid_demigoddess
Summary: there is, of course, the possibility that everything - including their date - would turn out alright, but as takatora takes the next exit to bring them closer to fuuto, it's not a possibility he gives more attention to than warranted.[godworship-compliant; takatora has a meeting and a date in the same day and the results will shock you]
Relationships: Kazuraba Kouta/Kureshima Takatora
Series: godworship [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728640
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

god does not have a license, so takatora drives. his chauffeur had been informed beforehand of the arrangement, as he's not of a mind to bring a civilian - no matter how highly vetted or decorated - into a clandestine meeting set up by a fuuto city native, and also because, as kouta said, they would make a date of it. 

(he only says that kouta would be _accompanying_ him, but oren's protests are silenced by the announcement so quickly, he wonders what the man is thinking. he doesn't get another word in edgewise for the rest of their conversation as oren dithers about spending the unexpected day off with his old friend and prying gossip about takatora from him - _"all in jest, my dear melon."_ but then, as they're ending the call, oren throws out, _"please make sure the little aquarius doesn't distract you too badly while you're on the road,"_ and takatora still has no idea what to think of _that_.)

"your seatbelt," takatora reminds kouta, right after he sits back from the kiss he takes in greeting; he secures the belt and gives takatora a thumbs up, and then they're pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. 

kouta had gone back to his off-earth duties in between takatora telling him about the meeting and the day itself, so as they contend with saturday traffic, they catch each other up on current events. or rather, takatora dutifully confirms that he'd slept, and kouta shares news about the sentient lifeforms on their planet with palpable excitement before detouring to a story about how mai had been prodding micchy about the beat riders. 

"and then she says she thinks sometimes they haven't grown past being middle schoolers yet, and maybe micchy should stop egging peko on to get him to punch him when all he actually wants is a cathartic cry-hug, or else _zack's_ gonna be stressed and then _kaito_ will flower off season and it'd just be bad news everywhere."

because takatora is biased but unwilling to be dishonest, he only nods and makes a noncommittal noise at the conclusion of kouta's story. agreeing that one's brother needs a fist in the face isn't quite the done thing, no matter who's in the passenger seat, he thinks. 

"times like this," kouta says, sounding like he finds the situation equal parts funny and concerning, "i really _get_ how you and micchy are related."

takatora must make a noise he's not aware of (maybe of indignance, maybe of surprise), because then kouta is laughing and slapping his knees, begging takatora to "stop being so _cute_ , we're on _the road_ ," which is unfair when kouta is like that, among other things, almost always. 

still, they cross into tokyo without further incident and kouta settles for giving an apologetic kiss only to the back of takatora's hand. takatora doesn't see anything worth apologizing for - kouta's observation is accurate and takatora is keenly aware he and mitsuzane are of a kind - but he hasn't rejected a kiss yet, and he isn't about to start any time soon. 

they'd been cruising along in comfortable silence until kouta asks, seemingly startled from watching the bustle of the city outside his window by the sight of a vending machine being serviced, "it was kougami who vouched for them, wasn't it?"

it was, and the corners of his mouth pull down slightly as takatora confirms, "he attended the investors meeting and greeted me personally." a hand comes to settle on his knee and he continues, "he wouldn't leave until i read the email in front of him, and insisted it was an opportunity for 'world-consuming desires to be fulfilled'."

"your uncle is weird," kouta says, and doesn't try to sweeten the entirely acceptable description by mentioning anything complimentary about him (not that he knew _anything_ of the sort about kougami) or his intentions (no one knew anything about _those_ ), which takatora appreciates more than words can say. so instead, he lifts kouta's hand to his lips and tries not to smile too widely when kouta groans, " _no_ , now you're being _cute_ on _purpose_ \--"

takatora lets kouta compose himself while he negotiates a turn, hiding his smile in the motion of checking his mirrors. a moment later, he redirects them back to the conversation - "you were asking about him?"

"huh? ah, yeah, i figured he was the only 'family friend' who could be persistent enough, and, well, it's not really a vote of confidence if he's _that_ excited about it," which sums up takatora's misgivings about the whole matter exactly. kouta squeezes takatora's knee reassuringly, "eiji said we could at least trust him to keep his best interests above everyone else's, so there's that for thought."

"did you meet with hino recently?" the news hadn't reported any major catastrophe in the past two days, though that might just mean it was an off-earth affair. 

"nah, i visited him for a bit. he's still in germany, at the digsite."

the notion that kouta deliberately sought out his fellow rider just to ask about the proclivities of takatora's reluctantly designated relative gives rise to the sentiment _you didn't have to_ , but takatora knows the hand that kouta keeps on his knee is a preemptive _don't mention it_. as such, it's the least takatora could do to let kouta's hand slide up his thigh in what isn't a completely idle caress.

kouta doesn't bother to hide his smile at the wordlessly given permission, which takatora glimpses in his periphery even as he keeps his eyes on the road. "anyway, he's sketchy, but not more than this museum guy, but eiji said if any trouble comes up, W would be on it."

'W' is a familiar name, if only because takatora has spent maybe a few inadvisable hours trawling sites dedicated to the urban legends of kamen riders after kouta had mentioned meeting others when extreme situations brought them together. it takes some of the tension out of him to know that at least there would be a neutral element who would help manage whatever potential fallout the meeting would cause. 

there is, of course, the possibility that everything - including their date - would turn out alright, but as takatora takes the next exit to bring them closer to fuuto, it's not a possibility he gives more attention to than warranted. 

all around the windy city spin pinwheels of varying sizes and color, a welcoming sight that doubles as watchful eyes. they're miniature mimics of fuuto tower, renovated four years ago and standing proudly until now, which arrests both their attention when they get the chance to fully look at it at a stoplight. kouta twists in his seat to watch it for a few more moments before he turns to takatora and says, "we should go there for our date."

they will, because kouta hadn't asked a question and because takatora has no objection to give against what is probably a quintessential date activity and kouta's happiness. "the observation deck should be open, if there aren't any repairs or private events."

"fingers crossed there won't be any big fights either," kouta adds, grinning, "but whatever happens, i'm bringing you up there. hey, maybe we can ride the dandeliner to the top!"

it wouldn't be the strangest thing fuuto has seen, takatora muses as an out-of-season santa crosses on the pedestrian lane in front of them.

they continue their drive while kouta points out other places that catch his interest - a 'magic' café, a row of boutiques, a pool hall - and takatora takes note of them, even as the gps periodically announces their distance from their destination, heightening his anxiety in equal increments despite the comfort of kouta's hand resting on his thigh.

at the last stoplight before the road that would lead them up to the museum, takatora decides that there was no reason for him to carry this looming dread around without even any sort of incentive. he turns to kouta and says, "at fuuto tower, i want to kiss you at the top."

"oh, definitely," kouta agrees, smiling pleasantly despite how his next words strike takatora as half a threat against whatever force would object. "we're gonna have a great time."

they would, takatora doesn't doubt it. before that, though, they had a meeting to live through.

at fuuto museum, the greeter is a cat. some patrons wave at it as they enter or exit the building, and takatora catches its name this way: 'mick'. with an aloofness specific to felines, mick merely watches as people mill about the entrance, never going beyond staring at passers-by, but when it sees kouta, it rears up and bounds away as if spooked.

"did you want to pet it?" takatora asks when kouta makes a disappointed sound next to him. "kinda? but maybe we'll see him later again, i think he's still technically on the clock."

speaking of the clock - takatora notices they'd made good time on their drive, enough for a quick tour; he says so to kouta, who immediately links their hands together, nearly bouncing on his feet as he whisper-shouts, "museum date!" takatora lets himself be tugged along by his hand as kouta picks a route at random and deftly avoids an approaching tour guide. 

as they walk through the museum, seeing the slightly incongruous cat stands beside various exhibits on recent events in fuuto brightens kouta's mood as much as it supports takatora's internal classification of whoever they're meeting as 'a friend of uncle's'. he'd be _very_ surprised if they weren't some combination of maniacal, cryptic, and obsessed about esoteric interests. 

before the thought could spawn more paranoid notions, takatora is distracted by kouta's delighted laugh upon seeing the fuuto city mascot. 'fuuto-kun' hands them a pinwheel each - one orange and one green - and claps when they concede to blowing on the pinwheels to make them spin. satisfied, the mascot turns to the other patrons, only to be rushed at by a group of children. with their hands still tightly clasped, kouta sets them on a new route away from the commotion. 

they enter the section marked for earth's prehistoric period - _gaia memories_ , it says on the banner - and kouta squeezes takatora's hand when he reads something interesting on the plaques beside the glass cases. despite takatora's instinct telling him that they'd soon be surprised by the museum's administrator emerging from some shadowed alcove, it's no hardship to enjoy his time with kouta. he makes a note to express his appreciation later, before pointing out another cat stand next to the smilodon bones - this one even has a toy sitting in it, a robot dinosaur, whose head is stuck out at an angle, like a sentry.

"guess mick's gone back to work," kouta muses, swinging their hands in an arc as they idle at the information plaque. "i don't envy him," takatora says, making kouta snicker.

it's as easy as breathing to be relaxed in kouta's company, takatora finds. the anxiety that had built up in him during their drive hasn't disappeared entirely, but takatora feels less eclipsed by it, less prone to jumping at shadows. he adjusts his grip on kouta's hand to twine their fingers together, and asks, "shall we enjoy our break for a bit longer?"

kouta's answering smile is infectious, and takatora gives in happily to the impulse of walking closer to him as they continue on their route. 

when their luck of making it through the museum unaccompanied finally runs out, it's not in the way takatora expects. the tour guides who approach them are clearly volunteers: they wear high school uniforms in the popular fashion (toeing the line of dress codes), and it's only the green armband that sets them apart from the other high schoolers milling about (that, and the large pink rose in one guide's hair). kouta's hand tightens around his when he notices the girls, and without breaking his hold, he puts himself between takatora and the pair as they reach them. the smile on kouta's face is as welcoming as ever, but his stance is protective, and takatora fails against the blush creeping up his cheeks.

unperturbed, the girl sans flower - her name tag reads 'queen' - speaks directly to takatora, asking, "you're here for the contributors' meeting, right?" the other girl - 'elizabeth' - fishes a sleek, pink flip phone from her pocket, and its many accessories jangle noisily as she types on it before looking up at them. "kureshima takatora-san and kazuraba kouta-san! you're like, super early, but also we've been looking everywhere for you!"

"my apologies," takatora demurs, "i believe the meeting is at 11?" queen nods, keeping her gaze on takatora despite kouta's persistent efforts to be acknowledged. she's smiling at him, but takatora is familiar with the pretty but polite veneer of someone doing their job and not liking it very much; there's hardly any sense of threat coming from the two girls, only a vague sense of the ennui teenagers are known for. 

"yeah, but like, we were supposed to show you around this specific route to kill time before the meeting." seemingly unconcerned by the change in plans, queen continues, "the meeting's out in the sun deck, all the way at the end of the hall." elizabeth gestures at the indicated direction, her phone straps jingling like bells, "you can't miss it! the doors are open and the cakes and drinks are all out and smelling yummy."

"this part of the museum's gonna close the second you head over," queen says, simultaneously reassuring takatora and making him tamp down on a startled laugh at the indirect but perfectly audible addition: _'so get going'_.

"thank you for your assistance," is what he says instead, before tugging kouta away. 

when they're far enough out of earshot, kouta says, "if your uncle's friend employs high schoolers as guards, i really wouldn't be surprised." he sounds supremely unimpressed about the prospect, and, likewise, unapologetic about the fair slight against takatora's relative-by-association. takatora murmurs his agreement, privately grateful for the fact that his uncle hadn't insisted on joining the meeting - kouta really is much better company.

as the guides described, a pair of french doors stand open at the end of the hall, outwards into a deck shadowed by two large umbrellas. in the middle is a table laden with finger foods and a modern style-tea set in asymmetrical black and white ceramic, occupied only by a young man incongruous with his surroundings: he has bull clips in his hair, his vest skirts the floor in a fall of pastel green, and he clutches a book to his chest; his attention seems wholly captured by something on the smartphone propped up on the table. 

it takes a moment for takatora to place the music he's hearing, in contrast with kouta who immediately exclaims, "that's team gaim!"

the young man looks up at his outburst and smiles at the sight of them. "kureshima takatora and kazuraba kouta. how wonderful that you're both here, that makes things easier." 

takatora checks off _cryptic_ in his mental tally and squares his shoulders, adopting an expression that makes kouta squeeze his hand. power plays the likes of which his father had long since drilled into him were hard to shake off, and by now they're second nature. "fuuto museum's administrator, i presume."

"that is my official title, yes, but please call me philip." 

'philip', without a surname and the attendant family ties, doesn't stand or hold out a hand to shake; instead, he continues to survey them with his considering gaze, inviting them to sit as an afterthought. kouta pulls out a chair for takatora, and philip watches this, too. when kouta is settled in his own seat, philip leans back and brings his fingertips together in front of him, smiling above them as if the last few seconds had been the setup to an elaborate joke.

takatora checks off _cryptic_ twice.

"you see me as a threat," philip comments into the uneasy silence, before launching into a circuit of questions and answers that appropriates the _maniacal_ bullet point in takatora's head, with only a bit of give: "is it because of the message i sent? we've spent less than the commonly allotted time for 'first impressions' to be developed into biases and adapted into behaviors, but you're both notably tense already. 'fuuto museum administrator' is an unwieldy title, but it shouldn't cause so much undue stress unless you're aware of the history of the previous stewards - which you aren't, because you didn't raise objections or queries about neither the museum's name nor mine. that leaves the option of your stress being linked to our, hm, _common acquaintance_."

with a burnished gold teaspoon, philip gestures at takatora. "kougami kousei. your uncle."

takatora raises an eyebrow, "was that supposed to be impressive? surely you were aware of the tone of your message - no, your _demands_ about yggdrasil's spoils, of which none no longer exist, as they've been assimilated into the zawame city restoration bureau."

under the table, takatora's hand is empty of kouta's, but as consolation, kouta bumps their feet together and picks up where takatora left off, leaning forward in his seat and favoring philip with a pleasant but dissonantly ominous smile. "you called me over, too, so you're obviously in the know about a lot of stuff that didn't make it into the news. being on our guard's just about expected, i think."

" _'expected'_ ," philip echoes, gesturing loftily with one hand, "hmm, i do suppose in our mutual line of 'work' meetings like these are hardly social calls." he nods decisively before rattling off an apology, which, for all its correctness and articulation, sounds completely insincere - and then, philip switches tracks in a blink, asking kouta if he's heard of something called 'heaven's tornado'.

takatora puts a final check next to _obsessed with esoteric interests_ and tries to remember how one detected poison in ceramics. he rubs at the bridge of his nose as he thinks, a paltry attempt at warding off a headache induced entirely by the ridiculous situation he's in. 

when takatora tunes back in to the reality wherein the imperative to maintain passing-civil social interactions with zawame's investors had led him to make the acquaintance of a man clearly and comfortably in the same league as his uncle, it's to find said man on his feet and in the middle of coaxing kouta to do the same. 

"i've mastered it," philip claims with full confidence, only to be met with kouta frowning doubtfully, " _bet_."

"philip," takatora interrupts, the natural gravitas of his voice tempered mildly with impatience, "about the information on helheim--"

"you refused," philip cuts in, sounding not a whit disappointed, "despite my correspondence lacking tonal sensitivity, i _have_ been taught manners. that, and the primary source is present so my questions stand to be answered regardless." he's still leaning over kouta, one hand gripping his wrist as the other remains occupied with his book. an unnerving smile breaks out on his face as he says, "what do you think, kamen rider gaim -- or should i say, _god of helheim_?"

the telltale click of a lock disengaging only serves to solidify the tension rising in the moment. takatora has a hand on the driver in his coat but kouta is a step ahead, standing as he materializes his driver, his hand closed around his lockseed. 

"yeah, i don't answer to that name at all, sorry." takatora knows by the tone of kouta's voice that he's still smiling despite how he forces philip backwards with just a step; perplexingly, _philip_ is also smiling. "how compelling," he murmurs, eyes gleaming as he looks at kouta. 

the set of kouta's shoulders is not a pleasant view, so takatora comes to stand next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder as he fingers the lockseed in his pocket. "i'll be frank, before anything untoward starts -- tell us what you called us here for, philip."

before philip can answer - and he looks thrilled to be invited to do so - a driver appears around his waist. it's unfamiliar in design and purpose, and even philip seems mildly surprised at the sight of it. takatora squeezes kouta's shoulder when he hears him mutter under his breath, _what the fuck_ indeed. 

and then philip starts talking, head cocked at his driver. "is there a problem, partner?" no answer is forthcoming, from takatora's point of view, but philip hums, as if he's heard a reply. "they're here, actually. no, we haven't eaten yet - do you like sandwiches?" philip addresses them briefly, before taking their stunned silence as an affirmative, "they have no objections. fantastic."

and then he's sitting down, dissolving the tension into pure confusion as he fusses with the tea things laid out on the table. warily, takatora and kouta follow suit; for want of busywork, takatora fixes a cup for kouta, who stares at philip with a furrow between his brows, as if he's puzzling something out.

"my partner will be with us in a moment, he's just replenishing fuuto-kun's supply of pinwheels."

"your partner," takatora echoes uselessly, employing a time-tested tactic to enable eccentrics into over-explaining. it works: philip brightens considerably, mixing milk and sugar into a cup before setting it in front of the empty seat to his left. "my partner, yes. we truly weren't expecting you so early, so he'd gone to chase some pets back to their owners while we waited, and now it seems he's lost track of time spoiling fuuto-kun again."

something about philip's reply makes kouta bite his lip in thought, and under the table takatora feels him settle a hand on his thigh. "your partner… is a detective?" when philip nods, kouta's hand twitches.

"philip, are you--"

"sorry i'm late!" 

the interruption to kouta's moment of realization takes the form of a man in a suit carrying a paper bag. stuck in the band of his hat is a purple pinwheel, and on his waist is the same driver as philip's.

"hidari shoutaro," he introduces himself, holding out a hand after setting his bag down, "philip's introduced himself, yeah? he and i are W." 

because, _of course_ they are. kouta's wavering laugh echoes takatora's disbelief, and as hidari's genial smile morphs into confusion, takatora can't help but feel a touch vindicated. not knowing what was happening was a fine feeling to share.


	2. Chapter 2

as shoutaro (who vehemently refuses to be called 'hidari') reads philip's email, takatora watches kouta correct philip's handstand form. it's a precise process; eventually kouta goes into the same position for philip's examination. he's much steadier than philip, even managing to shoot takatora a wink while upside-down. 

_ hypocrite _ , takatora thinks fondly.  _ who's being cute now?  _

across the table, shoutaro sets takatora's phone down and presses his face into his hands. " _ partner _ ," he sighs with palpable feeling, "you're  _ never _ sending another email without me."

philip only hums in acknowledgment.

"i am truly,  _ truly _ sorry about," shoutaro gestures at philip's general direction, "his intents are purely self-serving but he doesn't mean any harm."

none of the items in takatora's checklist applies to hidari shoutaro. he speaks plainly and carries himself without overblown self-importance, and the practiced way he'd gotten philip to direct his attention elsewhere painted the picture of a man well-adjusted to his surroundings, especially when said surroundings included a man like philip. takatora finds him easy to talk with, his dramaticisms refreshing instead of overbearing. 

"so when he says he  _ 'wants access to yggdrasil's research to satiate personal curiosities in the face of a most unfortunate dearth of resources' _ , he means…?"

"it means he's gone through the library and got stumped by the lack of a keyword or an entire book, so he's going straight to the source."

from where he's imitating kouta to limited success, philip clarifies, "there's much that's unrecorded in zawame's book given how key events took place in helheim or adjacent to it, and i wanted to see where i could access that."

"and you figured that, if yggdrasil's information was still lacking, you'd ask kouta." takatora could see the logic in it, and the way phrasing had warped philip's intent. his mental bullet point for  _ cryptic _ earns another check.

shoutaro pulls down on the brim of his hat, lets out an exasperated breath, and then looks up at takatora. "like i said, purely self-serving. if you're really against it, that's fine, there's no pressure."

because of unfathomable reasons, takatora feels compelled to believe him. it may have something to do with the strong notion that shoutaro is being honest, bolstered by how he meets takatora's eyes naturally and without pretensions.

_ like kouta _ , takatora thinks. 

shifting in his seat, takatora settles in for a long talk. "philip mentioned a book about zawame, and you mentioned a library - i assume these are secure?"

shoutaro seems surprised by his capitulation, but he covers it quickly enough and assures takatora that whatever information they receive stays between them. as shoutaro describes the gaia library and philip's look up's, takatora notices philip glancing at them every so often. he isn't subtle, but neither is it a nuisance, so takatora leaves the observation alone, focusing on shoutaro's explanations.

philip and kouta rejoin them eventually, and they collectively remember the sandwiches waiting for them in the paper bag sat next to the teapot. it's a much more involved conversation that they have in between food and drink, and takatora likens it to the lunches he sometimes had at charmant, bizarre segues and all. 

they work out an agreement: under the guise of an investor in zawame's reconstruction efforts, philip would be allowed to access yggdrasil's research, those recovered from before and after the helheim invasion, and those under pursuit against rogue lockseed users. philip wears a familiar smile when he says that it's a fruitful way to make use of his family's fortune, and takatora keeps his questions about the sonozaki name that philip signs with to himself.

in exchange for the access, philip and shoutaro would connect takatora with other experts in the field - other kamen riders, basically, who could be counted on to judiciously dispatch rogue lockseed users and relay information about them and their enablers. a good number of them are apparently in law enforcement, with some connections reaching even the interpol. 

"and you can ask me for look up's, too," philip adds, polishing off another cake slice, his eyes twinkling at the prospect. "i'll be imposing on kouta's time, after all."

that was the other aspect of the agreement: kouta and philip meeting to talk about helheim and the inves, and even the new world kouta and mai were working on. the how's and when's of their meeting would need ironing out, but kouta is visibly excited about the prospect of learning from the earth's steward how a planet goes about actually  _ being _ one. 

"mai would love to meet you, too, and she's a better teacher than i am… i'm seeing her in a day or two, so we'll get to try that first contact soon, maybe have another go at heaven's tornado."

shoutaro and takatora share a meaningful look as philip nods along, and both of them default to their tea cups wordlessly. 

it's still early in the afternoon when they finish their food and share personal contact details, so shoutaro offers to walk takatora and kouta around fuuto. 

as they leave the deck, philip talks up shoutaro's knowledge of the city. he does so with what takatora considers as his naturally escalating rhythm, and with such fervor that it makes his partner blush; it's an endearing sight that almost makes takatora cross off one of the checks on his mental tally. shoutaro fusses with his hat for a few moments, but composes himself enough to amend, "only if you don't have other plans, that is."

before takatora could defer the offer to another visit, kouta answers for them both. "that's real nice of you, but we've actually got a date to get back to," and then he takes takatora's hand from where it's been hanging at his side, intertwining their fingers pointedly. 

shoutaro doesn't even bat an eye, shifting tracks to recommend some good date spots to kouta; surprisingly, it's  _ philip _ who freezes on the spot and repeats, wondrously, "a  _ date _ ?"

he's looking at takatora for confirmation, which he receives in the form of a nod. philip manages to circle them once even while walking and muttering to himself, but as they round a corner shoutaro has to steer him back in step; he keeps his hand on philip's elbow as they go, and says, "if you'd read queen's message you would have known earlier, partner."

"so they  _ do _ work for you!" kouta exclaims, with a grin on his face takatora is sure he's mirroring as he adds, "but not as guards, yes?"

"they're shoutaro's informants when they're not successful idols," philip explains quickly, before glancing pointedly at their linked hands, "how  _ compelling _ ."

"he is, isn't he?" kouta says, squeezing takatora's hand and smiling up at him in a way that leaves takatora tongue-tied and, for the second time that day, useless against the blush overtaking his face.

shoutaro, mercifully, doesn't comment.

just before they leave the museum, shoutaro ducks behind a decorative plant pot and pulls out mick, who regards kouta's excitement at seeing him with only a languid and perhaps disinterested blink. "he's usually running about," shoutaro explains, "active old thing that he is."

as kouta indulges in petting and making ridiculous noises at mick, philip sidles up next to takatora and, once he'd secured his attention, says, "kougami didn't tell me about this." it doesn't mean that his uncle doesn't know, but takatora sets that aside, "and what do you make of it?"

no one else knows about them - mitsuzane might have guesses but takatora knows he's actively preoccupied, and takatsukasa mai and kumon kaito aren't earthbound. oren has  _ ideas _ and akira has kept her thoughts to herself, but otherwise, there's no one else who's had the opportunity to observe them together as philip and shoutaro had just had. takatora is a little curious, and philip recognizes that, it seems, judging by the way he drums his fingers over his chin in a poor attempt at hiding the amused curve of his lips.

"i think it's good to have a reason to smile always so close to you."

that's true, takatora concedes. there are still three checks beside the  _ cryptic _ bullet point in his mind, but now the tally is followed by a postscript:  _ preferable company during investor meetings _ .

their afternoon is wide open when they leave the museum just after three, and takatora is ready to hear about shoutaro's recommendations for the rest of their date as they get into the car - "right after one thing," he says, as he leans over the console, hand cupping the back of kouta's head to tilt his face just enough for their lips to meet in a firm kiss. 

it doesn't stay as just as a kiss for long, as kouta reaches out to touch takatora's cheek, his throat, and the healing bruise he'd bitten into the skin under takatora's collar days ago. takatora parts his lips obediently, greedily, and is gifted with kouta moaning into his mouth as if his simple indulgence has undone him so thoroughly. knowing kouta and how he thinks, it's a fair conclusion, despite how takatora hasn't understood it yet. 

kouta pulls away first, thumb resting against the swell of takatora's bottom lip and his other hand combing through takatora's hair. "we have a  _ date _ ," he insists, though his eyes seem magnetized to takatora's mouth. takatora thinks of leaning into kouta's hand in his hair, does so, and is rewarded with kouta pressing forward again; this kiss is shorter, but afterwards takatora's lower lip stings just slightly, just enough to make it the shade of red kouta prefers. 

despite takatora deigning to swipe at the digit held at his lip with the tip of his tongue, kouta steels himself and asks, "i thought you wanted to kiss at the top of fuuto tower? what was that about?"

"my appreciation," takatora explains, settling in the driver's seat and adjusting his collar back into something presentable, "for your delightful company."

"sure, that… yeah, okay." kouta sounds winded and delighted at the same time, and he laughs as he fixes his seatbelt on. takatora doesn't have to wait for long before his hand settles back on his thigh.

"so, what did shoutaro recommend?" 

"there's a lot, actually, but you remember that magic café from this morning? they do real magic shows for customers…"

at the shirogane café, kouta pulls a chair out for takatora, and allows himself to be fed bites of a coffee-flavored cake. he uses takatora's phone to record the shirogane's performance, sitting close to takatora to show him the screen. while they're waiting for the bill, he covers the hand takatora is resting on the table with his own, brushing his thumb over takatora's knuckles thoughtlessly. 

they don't spend more than an hour at the café, still full as they are and with a whole city left to explore - but takatora feels as if that sliver of time could have gone on for far longer, as idyllic as it was. he settles for committing it to memory, and answering honestly when kouta asks if he'd like to visit there again in the future:  _ yes, i'd love to.  _

they walk down a street lined with boutiques, one of which houses a brand takatora is familiar with. kouta laughs when he describes, with perfect sombreness, how his father's business partners would send him gifts of ties and pocket squares, engraved lapel pins and precious gems set in cufflinks - starting from his twelfth birthday. 

"shoutaro wears it better," takatora says of windscale, to which kouta gamely replies, "yeah, i think you look better with the suit off, anyway."

before takatora can even process the sentiment, kouta squeezes his hand and declares that he shouldn't be afraid of getting such boring birthday gifts anymore, "not if i or our friends have anything to say about it."

sufficiently distracted by the prospect of cake he sorely does not want, takatora leaves the comment for a later time, a decision which saves him from losing another fight to the rush of blood in his cheeks.

they make it to the top of fuuto tower just as the sun is setting. 

takatora doesn't rue the decision to leave the car in a parking lot despite the length of time it takes them to get to the tower. it had made for a more personal experience of fuuto, and besides that, he'd gotten to hold kouta's hand and watch him smile and laugh all throughout their trek. 

kouta isn't bothered by the less than optimal view, either, admitting to takatora that he liked sunrises more anyway. 

"next time, then," takatora says as the sun sinks into the horizon. there aren't many high-rises in fuuto, and the cityline frames the last vestiges of sunlight beautifully. 

"next time," kouta echoes, just as he leans up to peck takatora's cheek. "you've been half-smiling all day  _ and _ holding my hand, we should have more dates like this."

takatora couldn't agree more, and when they kiss again, he feels the smile kouta can't quite help from blooming on his face.

it's late when takatora returns home, and as he walks him to the door, kouta reminds takatora to eat and have an early night. "no more emails from  _ or _ for weird uncle kougami tonight," he says with an air of authority takatora decides he likes. 

"any other instructions?" he asks, slipping his hands into his pockets lest he give in to the inadvisable urge to pull kouta into another kiss, or through the door. 

kouta takes a moment to think, before pulling out the pinwheel from fuuto museum. "take care of it for me, they're a set and you shouldn't separate them," he says of the toy's pair sitting in takatora's coat pocket. takatora knows just where to put them, and he's about to say so when kouta cuts him off with a quick peck on his lips. it's too quick, in fact, that takatora finds himself leaning in for another - kouta indulges him, before leaning back deliberately and taking a steadying breath.

"we can't have another date if we don't even end this one properly," he says with finality, despite how he looks as if he wants to see takatora to his bedroom door, too. it's sound logic, however, and takatora acknowledges that they're both dawdling enough. 

"i had a great time today," takatora says, which makes kouta smile like his own personal sun, "see you soon, kouta."

"mm, see you soon, takatora." with a wave of his hand, a zipper opens and kouta steps through it, leaving takatora at his doorstep with a bright orange pinwheel. 

it occurs to him only now how, perhaps, one of them should have bought flowers or some other gift, but takatora brushes the thought away easily, blowing at the pinwheel to make it spin.  _ there's always next time. _

_extra_

at the breakfast table, the kureshima brothers take stock of each other as they settle into their seats. if they're surprised by what they see - a well-rested expression on takatora's face (that only serves to punctuate the hickey peeking from under his shirt collar) and a purple bruise eclipsing mitsuzane's left eye (but not the smile on his lips) - they don't react overtly, leaving their comments for the end of their meal.

after their cups and plates are emptied, mitsuzane speaks first. 

"did the meeting go well?"

takatora says yes, it did, they have a new investor and the kamen rider professional network just a call away. mitsuzane nods, grimacing faintly when he says, "i would say i hope uncle kougami won't take the occasion as a reason for cake, but, that's a given, isn't it?"

"unfortunately."

they share a moment of mutual, resigned dread, before takatora asks, "did you get your eye looked at?"

mitsuzane looks up from where he'd been imagining a cake larger than his torso, and says, disjointedly, "peko punched me."

takatora is only a little bit surprised, and so he regroups quickly. "i suppose peko also took you to get your eye looked at?"

"he did. he's visiting later to make sure i'm icing it properly." mitsuzane pauses, and then rushes out, "please don't hurry back today, we're going to talk and i'm not looking to break something but i'm going to tell him he's more than welcome to."

takatora refrains from staring or doing anything that would broadcast his confusion. he nods, and agrees to calling before he makes his way home. 

he doesn't agree to not saying anything to whoever might be at charmant at lunch, however. mitsuzane purses his lips, but doesn't press the issue.

before takatora leaves for work, mitsuzane says, "nii-san," and taps the side of his neck. "you might want to take care of that before you announce any news about the new investor."

**Author's Note:**

> \- once again, written in the wee hours (4am to daylight) so if there are any mistakes, please let me know so they can be [redacted]. i listened almost exclusively to umi-kun's vocaloid bossa nova medley cover (and the original by kahimi) while writing this and it was the best idea.
> 
> \- these two deserve to be sappy and have a good, healthy relationship where they lose their damn minds whenever the other person indulges them. takatora deserves to stress over normal things like weird relatives and his bf being so cute he dies about it. kouta can eat human food but doesn't necessarily need to bc he changed the rules of godhood. _they will be happy. they have no choice._
> 
> \- the underlying plot is: my otp meets other riders and are cute. the kamen rider professional network is just a fancy name for friends who know each other's business and can make jokes and observations about them bc they're in the same boat.


End file.
